


The Angel Maker

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [21]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Kudos: 23





	The Angel Maker

Hotch was late in that he hadn’t shown up yet. It was strange, but they figured Rossi would take the lead in any new investigations. Piper finally had some time to get through the mountain of paperwork since they got back last night before she’d get called to the conference room. She almost yelled at Spencer who was about to place a hot cup of tea on her papers and almost made him spill his own cup of coffee. She gave him a brief apology and muttered a quick thanks as she resumed the work. Derek simply raised an eyebrow before pulling Spencer aside and asking him what was wrong. “Hotch hasn’t come in yet.” Spencer nodded. Unfortunately, he was under the assumption that Derek was a mind reader which, as cool as that would have been, would be untrue.

“So?”

“She figured he was getting his MRI today which has a 55% chance of him being rejected for active duty.”

“Only 55%?”

“Has Hotch ever failed to convince anyone of anything?” Catching a look from Derek, he quickly amended, “Professionally.”

“No.”

“So, she figures if he gets rejected, a) he’ll be a pain on everyone and ask for pending paperwork or b) she’ll be able to cheer him up with done paperwork.” Derek nodded and was about to return to his desk before he came up with an amazing idea. 

“Wait, pretty boy, why don’t you offer to do some for her?”

“Because I value my head.” He laughed at Derek’s puzzled face. “Ask, you’ll see.” Spencer chuckled as he returned to his seat.

“Hey, angel face.”

“No.”

“C’mon, you don’t like any of my nicknames.”

“Because they’re all flirty and ridiculous.”

“That’s the point, snowflake.”

“Don’t make me give you a tracheotomy, Derek.”

“You’re breaking my heart, angel.”

“I’m gonna break something,” she murmured before slamming her pen down and meeting Derek’s eyes. “What do you want?”

“Can I help?”

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing, I just want to help.”

“Last time you just wanted to help, you destroyed a pillow fort I spent 4 hours making.”

“Fine. Let Spencer help you.” Piper’s eyes widened.

“Oh nooo. No. Nope. Nuh uh.”

“Wha- Why?”

“Because his handwriting’s like a dyslexic hobgoblin’s.” She winced at her own insult as she leaned back and whispered, “Sorry.”

“It’s true,” Spencer acknowledged.

“Now, go away into the land of hot women and gyms. Or Miami, up to you.” JJ flaunted past.

“We have a case.”

Delilah Grennan was bludgeoned and raped during the night at her home in lower Canaan, Ohio, a small town 40 miles outside of Cincinnati. Small puncture wounds on her stomach were inflicted post-mortem and her body was staged face-up with arms across her chest. 

“Any other victims?” Piper asked JJ as Emily walked in behind Spencer, flipping his fringe as she walked past, smiling.

“Kind of. The victimology and signature match a serial killer from the same town 10 years ago–”

“The Angel Maker,” Rossi spoke solemnly. “He was put to death by lethal injection a year ago yesterday.”

“A copycat?” Piper raised her eyebrow. “I hate copycats,” she grumbled. Piper wrinkled her nose as she flipped through the file. “It says here they found semen at the crime scene. Maybe locals will get a match when they run it through VICAP?”

“They did. Got a match too. That’s why we’re being called in. It matches Cortland Bryce Ryan’s DNA, popularly known as the Angel Maker.”

On the jet, Piper methodically studied the victim’s bodies as Spencer read out the previous file. “The Angel Maker’s victims were beaten with the assailant’s bare hands. Delilah Grennan was bludgeoned with a heavy instrument, maybe a hammer.”

“Ok, so this unsub’s a weaker guy, but at least someone who perceives himself that way,” Derek figured, turning to Emily seated next to him. 

“So he brought along the hammer to make certain his victim wouldn’t fight back?”

“They have parachutes on-board, right?” Piper looked up at Rossi as he stood behind Emily.

“They should. It’s standard on all federal air transport,” Spencer answered.

“Maybe we can give one to the elephant in the room, get him out of here?” Piper snorted. 

“That would be the elephant with the dead man’s DNA,” Derek scoffed. 

“Well, obviously somebody planted the semen on the victim,” Hotch spoke softly, perched on the desk beside the 4 agents. 

“In the victim,” Piper corrected, more than a little horrified.

“That’s one theory,” Spencer remarked. 

“There’s another?” 

“Think about who shares the exact DNA makeup of another person.” 

“Reid, you’re not seriously floating around the idea of an evil twin, are you?” Derek scoffed.

“No, I’m not. I’m floating the idea of an eviler twin. Traditionally, the concept is a good twin and an evil twin. But in this case, it’s evil twin, eviler twin.” Silence followed as Emily stared at him and Piper tried very, very, **very** hard not to laugh, patting him gently on his thigh. Spencer turned back to the file in his hand and Hotch failed to imperceptibly soothe his temple as Rossi noticed it. 

“Hotch, you have been cleared for duty right?” He was silent. That was not a good sign. Not good at all.

^-^

The team separated into pairs, Morgan and Bishop headed to the prison where Cortland Ryan was imprisoned, going through fan mail. “This one kid sent Ryan his demo tape and sheet music he wrote in his own blood,” Piper remarked. 

Reid and Hotch went to the crime scene. “He’s most likely a fan who exhaustively studied the first killings and used them to form his own murder fantasies. He knows this case as well as us; better, maybe, if he had actual contact with Ryan while he was incarcerated.” Reid proposed to Hotch.

Prentiss and Rossi visited the medical examiner. “The groupings in the prior victims were always different in number and arrangement. But I also found traces of paper in the wounds. Like notebook paper,” The M.E. shifted his glasses haphazardly as he spoke.

Congregated in their workroom, they shared their findings as Piper kept flicking through the puncture wounds, something missing. Her head kept bumping against a wall, like a fish hitting the edge of a fishbowl, not knowing any better. She grabbed a notepad, quickly pinpointing each puncture mark, hoping to give her a fresh perspective. As she stared at the dots on the paper, Spencer was handed a letter from another officer, the letter claiming to be written by Ryan himself. Piper looked up. “Please tell me this case isn’t turning into Ghostbusters,” Emily scoffed.

“I call dibs on Bill Murray,” Derek smirked.

“Kill me before I see that day,” Piper smiled, swiping a Cheeto from JJ’s hand.

“That movie is surprisingly scientifically accurate,” Reid murmured, examining the handwriting.

“Well, what’s the verdict Doc?”

“They share some compelling characteristics. I’d obviously like to look at it under magnification with better light.”

“Best guess, Reid?” Hotch prodded.

“Say it’s authentic.”

“The guy’s been dead over a year, how is that possible?”

“Well, as I said, I’d prefer closer examination, but it seems–”

“Could have been written beforehand or a really compelling forgery. May I?” Piper stretched out her hand and Spencer passed it.

> _I give you a legacy, a breath of life from the angel maker himself. Those who prayed to forget me will one day see my face and shrink in fear._

“It talks about legacy, maybe the angel maker isn’t just about Ryan anymore. Maybe it’s a title, handed down to the rightful descendent,” she proposed, but quickly abandoned the letter as a young woman burst into the room.

“Tell me it’s not true. Tell me that’s not really–” she burst into tears. Piper watched her break down in the detective’s arms, her heart bursting with every racked sob.

“The letter’s not from him, not the way people might be saying.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It… It means we think he has someone on the outside, a friend.” 

“What if you’re wrong? What if–” 

“There’s no such thing as ghosts, Sela.” 

“I’m not talking about a ghost. You know the rumours… I’m not the only one, look,” Sela pointed to the windows. Emily tossed Piper a bottle of water from the table and she rushed forward to give it to the woman. The detective looked at the crowd gathering outside the station, paralysed.

That evening, they gathered around the graveyard. Piper was only there because Emily dragged her along, ‘for curiosity’s sake’. She didn’t really see the need, not with Rossi and Hotch there too. “Will someone explain why we only do these things at dark? Has no-one seen horror movies?” Piper bugged Rossi.

“We have to do it at night. That’s when they feed.” Rossi turned to her, his hands imitating a mummy. Piper’s eyes widened and she took two big steps away from the grave.

“I hope he eats you first, Rossi.” Emily laughed. The detective joined them, Hotch alongside him. The machine started, emitting a grinding sound. It was some amalgamation of cymbals crashing, cats hurling fur-balls and nails scratching on chalkboards and if it was killing Piper’s eardrums, it was playing jazz for Hotch. Piper pulled Hotch away, as far as she could from the noise. “Are you okay?” she yelled over the noise, but her voice was noiseless. The sound finally stopped and she saw the detective peer into the casket and walk away, shrunken and empty. As the others walked away, Piper looked in. The casket was empty, the body missing.

* * *

The next morning, they asked for the doctor who had overseen the execution of the original Angel Maker, if only to close that avenue of thought. He assured the two agents that Ryan had died, even if it took an hour to do it. Piper and Rossi dismissed the doctor and updated Hotch. “What do you think about execution?” Piper posed, still gazing at the door through which the doctor had left. 

“Don’t get that question a lot.” Piper hesitated, weighing her next words.

“I mean, do they deserve it? I know, theoretically, you…you could debate the issue back and forth about morality and retribution but in the end, if it was you in the room with that…knowing you could rid the world of him… could you?” Piper looked at Rossi who took a deep breath.

“He raped and killed 6 women in 10 months. I would.” Piper exhaled heavily, watching him leave, confused when he doubled back. “It’s okay if you wouldn’t, or couldn’t. Compassion is the basis of morality.” Piper snorted mirthlessly. “Schopenhauer.”

She jumped off the table she was perched on, handing him a quote of her own. “It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets.” When he stared blankly at her, she whispered. “Voltaire.” She smiled at him as she walked away. He shrugged, following, oblivious to the cloud of puzzlement engulfing her.

* * *

Spencer paced in front of Piper as Emily and Derek visited a distributor of Ryan’s memorabilia. Piper got up, walked over to him and, placing two hands on his shoulder, said, “You’re making me dizzy. Stop.” She sat him down. “Let’s walk through the crime together. I’d have robbed the grave before committing the murder, then murdered Grennan.”

“What about the note?”

“Correspondence? Maybe he sent letters back to the unsub. They did have a year.”

“Why wait a year though? Why not kill right after the execution?”

“Grief? But that would only make the urge to continue his legacy stronger. We’re missing something.” As though her voice had reached some higher deity, Spencer’s cell buzzed.

“Yeah, Derek, you’re on speaker. I’m with Piper.”

_“‘Course you are. Listen, the distributor turned out to be Sid Rutledge.”_

“The prison guard?”

 _“That’s the one, sweet cheeks. Um.. slight problem though.”_ Piper grimaced, though whether it was at the nickname or the problem was unclear. _Both,_ Spencer noted, _definitely both._

“Morgan, what did you do?”

_“He was shot, one to the head, one to the groin.”_

“Derek!” Piper yelled. “Tell me you didn’t–”

_“I didn’t shoot him. Jeez, woman! Have some faith, honeybun.”_

“Than–” Spencer started except Piper cut the line. “You really hate those nicknames huh?”

“Look, when it’s between Garcia and Derek, I’m fine with it. That’s their… _thang_ as Derek would put it.”

“Never say that word again.”

“Never going to. It tasted weird. I just don’t like… _overly_ affectionate things. Not at work and _not_ with Derek. Besides, he should just pick a name and just stick with it.”

“So just explain it.”

“I can’t,” she murmured, trying to ignore his stare. “I..uh… I’ve never been called…it’s not…it’s like if… if Emily flirted with you every time you saw her. It feels weird and it’s so much weirder to…to talk it out.” Spencer nodded.

“Just a caveat; I’m not very good at advice, but I have found that if I ever need to drill something into Derek, call Garcia.” Piper smirked until her eyes fell upon the notepad, her hastily scribbled dots etched onto the paper. 

“What did the M.E. say he found on the bodies?”

“Traces of paper, like a–”

“Notepad,” she mumbled, ripping the sheet out hastily. “Pencil,” she commanded. “I need something…squishy…aha.” She grabbed the dark cushion and laid the paper on it. She gripped the pencil, as though it were a knife and slammed it into each dot. She discarded the paper, and they stared at the cushion. They looked up at Rossi who had just entered the room, seeing Piper stabbing a cushion and Spencer watching intently. 

“I have not had enough coffee to deal with this,” he muttered, hands up, walking away until Spencer pulled him back in and explained. “One thing I don’t get with the most recent murder. Unsub shoots the guard once execution-style, then again in the groin. Why so different?”

“He’s male, the crime itself is personal but not as excessive as…” Piper trailed off. “We found Ryan’s semen, not someone else’s. What if it was because the unsub couldn’t…” She searched for the right word. “Excrete semen?”

“Impotent?”

“No. Female. We’re dealing with a female unsub. Look at the crime. It’s clean, swift, two bullets and the job’s done. A male wouldn’t do that. Leaving behind Ryan’s semen…”

“Stop doing that and spit it out!” Rossi exclaimed.

“Well, it could be a forensic countermeasure, but what if she’s finishing the job?” They stared blankly at her and she sighed. Hastily, and somewhat haphazardly, Piper laid out the puncture wounds. “To us, there’s no system, but to Ryan, there is. What if she knew about it? There has to be a pattern.” Rossi still just blinked at her. “Jesus, okay. What do we know about Ryan? What were his last words?”

“I will be born again. Today you make me a legend,” Spencer recited from memory.

“Exactly. His entire self-concept is based around being a legend, laying down a legacy. But if our unsub believes his legacy is incomplete…”

“She’ll do anything to finish it,” Rossi finished. “So, does that mean Greenan is the last victim?”

“She could be. Or our unsub’s waiting for the right moment to target the next one.”

“You said there has to be a pattern to the puncture wounds, do you–” Piper gazed at the paper she’d ripped out, thinking and pacing. 

She stopped abruptly, turning to the window. “Oh, I’m so thick.” Her forehead un-crinkled as she rapidly drew the blinds, motioning for Spencer and Rossi to help. Soon, it was mostly dark. She grabbed the torch Emily had left next to her backpack and told Reid to hold the paper straight and steady above the table. Carefully, she climbed up onto the table as Hotch, Derek and Emily entered. Before Hotch could utter a word, Rossi shushed him and Piper flicked on the torch. 

“That look familiar?” Spencer made eye contact with Piper who was grinning with her new-found revelation.

“You’re a genius.”

“We’re not done yet. We don’t know what family this is from. You draw up half, I’ll do the others.” The rest of the team watched as the two chaotic doctors printed the dots out on the board and connecting them.

“Hold up, she’s been carving dot to dot puzzles this whole time?”

“We literally couldn’t connect the dots,” Piper smirked at Spencer, laughing at the stupid pun she’d just made as well as the sheer time it had taken her to realise it. “And they’re not dot-to-dots,”

“They’re constellations,” Emily realised. “Uh… may I?” She gazed at each one intently before scribbling the names under. “They’re all part of the Heavenly Waters family. Except…”

“What?”

“Two are missing. Carina and Columba.”

“How…never mind. I know better than to ask. You three are officially scary,” Rossi mocked. Emily mock-curtseyed.

“I think we’re ready for the profile.”

“We are?” Piper asked, glancing at Spencer. They gathered in the bullpen, surrounded by other law enforcement officers.

“There have been some strange happenings in this case,” Hotch started, “but I urge you not to abandon reason in the search of the truth. This is not the work of a ghost, and it’s not the work of a killer come back from the dead. This is the work of somebody who lives right here in lower Canaan, and this person is a woman.” 

“Her last victim, Sid Rutledge - he was the angel maker’s mule,” Derek explained. “He smuggled items out of Hawkesville Prison, including the semen that was planted at the first crime scene. She killed Rutledge because he knew she was the copycat, and also because he was blackmailing her.” 

“We now know that Rutledge was transferred to Hawkesville from a female prison, in the wake of allegations that he was using his position to leverage sexual favours from inmates,” Emily continued. “And we think he did the same thing to our unsub; in exchange for his silence, he wanted sex.” 

“Because she shot him in the junk, right?” An officer asked from the back.

“That, and the fact that he took a PDE-5 inhibitor shortly before his murder,” Spencer answered. 

“A what?” Confusion radiated through the crowd.

“Viagra,” Morgan supplied, resulting in a small hum. 

“We’re looking for a white woman in her mid-30s and she’s highly intelligent. And she’s not just a fan, she’s a groupie,” Rossi advised. 

“Now, she’s not what you would normally expect. More often than not, they’re attractive, they’re well-educated, They’re successful; some are even married,” Derek elaborated.

“Generally, they fall into types. Some are reformers. They’re on a mission to save or rescue these murderers. Often, this type of groupie has been raised in a repressive, religious environment and specifically have been exposed to the ideals of sexual repression and subjugation of women,” Spencer explained. 

“Our unsub is a different type, one who suffers from hybristophilia. It’s a sexual attraction to men who commit violent crimes,” Piper added. “They give her a power that she lacks, which stems from low self-esteem and a need for a father figure.” 

“Well, the victims were raped,” an officer raised from the front. “How do you explain that?” 

“She’s using an instrument to simulate the sexual assault…” Emily answered. “This is something that she keeps in her rape kit, along with the weapon that she’s using to bludgeon her victims.” 

“This is a list of women who visited and wrote the angel maker while he was in prison,” JJ said as he motioned for Derek and Emily to hand the packages out. “We’ve started to track these leads, but the list is extensive, so we’re gonna need your help.”

As darkness blanketed the town outside, Piper stared at the constellations inside and Spencer went through the evidence. “I don’t even know where to begin on narrowing these down.” Piper shrugged.

“You need help?”

“Please.” Piper grabbed three pieces, placing them in front of the other doctor.

“How do you organise uh… hard data? If I handed you a list of random numbers, how would you organise it?”

“Collate and identify the frequency of each variable.”

“I’m really hoping that means grouping, Doc, ‘cause I was gonna suggest grouping.” Spencer laughed. “Good. Here’s what we’re gonna do. We are going to organise these by frequency. The less frequent times a person contacts…” She caught his glassy eyes. She’d lost him too. And with all honesty, she’d lost herself. “An outlier that’s on the…” She searched for the scientific word and clicked her fingers, trying to speed up her brain. Why had she dropped statistics? “Tails!” She nearly shouted excitedly and Spencer laughed again.

“Are you talking about long tails?”

“Assuming that’s the thing where frequency decreases, then yes. Long tails go in here, fat tails go in the middle and…uh… screw it. The most repetitive one goes there.” Rossi was about to interrupt to ask if they wanted coffee but thought better of it when Piper started smacking Spencer for making fun of her. He walked over to Hotch who was on the phone with Emily who had gone to chase a few leads with Morgan.

“Where’d you find Piper?”

“I didn’t. Gideon did. At a high school. Teaching history. Why?”

“She’s different. How old is she again?”

“27…You coming to a point?”

“Isn’t Gideon the one who discovered Reid? The guy’s like a water diviner.” Hotch scoffed.

“She makes connections we don’t, we can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“None of us are exactly ordinary, Rossi. She is. I used to be an attorney, I look at these cases the same way. Morgan was in Chicago PD, worked in bomb squad too, an expert on obsessional crimes. He’s seen the worst of people. Reid sees patterns from seemingly useless data. Prentiss is the daughter of a diplomat. She knows people, their behaviour, but Piper isn’t the same. She understands people, empathises. Sometimes I wonder how better she’d be with the same training as the rest of us.”

“It’s funny. Our first conversation was when she got shot. She tried to explain how the team is an asset. Said almost the same thing as you. Except…” He trailed off, glancing back at the young woman going through files. “When she described herself, didn’t mention her PhDs or her experience, she just said she looks pretty in a hospital gown, she’s a sucker for cookies and takes a bullet for someone.”

“Guess she thought that was all you needed to know.” They heard a yell and turned to see Spencer holding a piece of paper and Piper twirling him and laughing. 

“Do not pull those eyes at me, Aaron. I do not have the strength nor the patience. It’s your turn.” Hotch smiled and walked over.

Clearing his throat, Spencer explained his discovery. “There’s been an ongoing conversation between Ryan and this woman called ‘his dove’. Look.”

> _Weather is good here._
> 
> _Out in the garden all day._
> 
> _Birds land on the fence._
> 
> _The moon is full now._

“You’d have to try to write that bad,” Hotch murmured. “Even I…” He trailed off, a blush creeping up his neck as he thought of Haley. “It’s a code.”

“This steganographic method would allow him to write letters that don’t appear enciphered. The real message would be hiding in plain sight.” 

“What do you need to crack it?” 

“The ability to clone myself and a year’s supply of Adderall,” Reid joked.

“I’ll uh… put on the coffee,” Piper offered, slightly scared of Spencer.

Piper collapsed on the couch as Spencer pored over the poem. “You should go back to the hotel, get some sleep.” She was silent, staring at the ceiling. “Pipes, how long has it been?”

“A week. I think. I get snatches.”

“Pipe-”

“There’ll be time after you crack that pattern, Doc. Besides, my body has to shut down at some point right?” she joked softly. A few hours pass and finally, her eyes flutter shut. Spencer stretches in his chair, glancing back at his best friend, smiling at how peacefully she slept. He didn’t know the anguish she was living behind closed eyes. Soon enough, he was fast asleep too, his face squished on paper. Rossi walked back in to see Piper sprawled on the floor and Spencer using a serial killer’s love letters as a pillow. He slammed his fresh cup of coffee on the table and Piper was up, gun pointed straight at him.

“Don’t shoot!” Piper closed her eyes, dropping her arms.

“Jeez, Rossi, don’t scare me like that.” She rubbed at her eyes, feeling dried tears again. 

“What do we do about him?” He gestured to the snoring Spencer. Piper silently walked up to Rossi, opening the lid to his coffee and gently placing it near the sleeping agent’s nose. Spencer rose, eyes still closed, hand reaching for the coffee, except she handed it over to Rossi.

“Hmm?”

“Be happy I didn’t make you smell my shoe,” Piper grumbled. After 3 and a half cups of coffee, the last half being snatched by Piper, Spencer stood in front of the team, explaining his findings. 

“They weren’t just close. They were in love.” 

“How’d you crack it?” Hotch asked.

“I profiled the author. Cortland Ryan was on death row with several high-ranking members of the Aryan Brotherhood.” 

“He got the code from the Aryans?” 

“Either that or he read a lot of 16th-century literature. The Aryans liked to use a cipher based on a 400-year-old code written by Sir Francis Bacon.” 

“So it’s a binary code.” 

“Yeah. Bacon used a 21-letter alphabet. This one’s 24. Each letter is assigned a bit string of 5 binary digits. This combination yields 32 possible encodings. Normally you’d use a computer to run all these combinations, But it was quicker just to do it longhand until I found the right one.” Emily slowly raised a finger to touch his cheek.

“He’s so lifelike.” JJ laughed as Spencer moved on.

“Now we don’t have a complete record of their correspondence, but I was able to make a chronology. The woman he calls ‘dove’ established contact shortly after the trial.”

“We think she was a member of the jury during the trial,” Piper added, yawning. Spencer frowned but agreed.

“What do you think she meant by that last line: I will bring a part of you back?” Emily asked.

“The murders? She brought him back to life,” Derek suggested.

“What if she was talking about his child?” JJ asked.

“Of course. The rebirth, the legacy…” Piper trailed off. “It all fits. JJ, you genius.” JJ smiled at Piper. “Death comes to all, but great achievements build a monument which shall endure until the sun grows cold,” she quoted to herself quietly. 

“Ralph Waldo Emerson,” Spencer muttered back to her and she smiled softly. 

“Well, if she actually had his kid, we might be able to track her through birth records,” Morgan pointed out.

“Wait, Spencer, what about that one about the future taking root?” Piper asked. “That sounds like a conception.”

“Yeah, gimme a sec.” He rummaged through his piles. “Here,” he said, holding up the letter. “Dated January 7, 2007. So we just fast forward 9 months.” Spencer shrugged, smiling. Derek got Garcia on the line.

“Actually, it’s 10 months.” JJ caught Piper’s eyebrow. “Yeah, it was news to me too.” Piper slapped a hand to her forehead.

“That’s why she waited a year. She was pregnant during the execution. She couldn’t have killed anyone.”

“Garcia found 9 names, she’s sending them over for us to cross off.”

* * *

Spencer and Derek started crossing off names with the lead detective and Piper yawned as she organised the room. “So, you uh… almost shot me this morning,” Rossi said.

“Yeah, and I might shoot you for real if you keep prodding, Rossi.” Piper barked as she dropped a pile of files in his hands. “Back off.” Rossi stood silently, unsure of what to do with the files in his hands.

They finally found her. Chloe Kelcher. She was on the jury during his trial where she fell in love with Cortland Ryan. She’d impregnated herself with Ryan’s semen but lost her child in the hospital due to microvesicular steatosis. She then resorted to the only way she could think of to keep Ryan alive: continuing what he started. The team stormed her house, finding it empty, save for the rotting corpse of Cortland Ryan and an appointment book, the most recent name being Faye Landreaux. 

Piper, Derek, Hotch and Rossi stood in front of Faye Landreaux’s house. The red Volkswagen outside was still warm and the windows were all closed. Derek sneaked around to find an open window around back as Hotch ordered the police cars to move to the front of the house, sirens blaring. Piper knew that Hotch knew he would go through unbearable pain but she also knew nothing she said would change his actions or decisions. But maybe Rossi could. “Hotch, I don’t think you can get through to her.” 

“No, but maybe she can,” he offered Piper the megaphone. She grasped it firmly. “What do you need?”

“I need the juiciest, most romantic thing Ryan wrote to a woman. Reid knows what to bring.” In a matter of minutes, he was there, beside her, hand inches apart as she held the prose Ryan had written. “I’m ready.” Hotch ordered the officers to hit the lights and Piper started. 

“Ms Chloe Kechler, this is the FBI. We know you’re in there, and we know what you’re trying to do. I get it. You fell in love with someone you couldn’t have, Chloe. But you should know what kind of man he was. I know you thought you were special, but the truth is, he wrote to many other women the same things he wrote to you. I’ve seen the letters. Dozens read the same lines: without the flesh, there is only the soul. You don’t need to touch me to feel the love I have for you. Does that sound familiar?” 

Piper took a deep breath. “Cortland wasn’t who you thought he was. He–he was a narcissist, Chloe. He wasn’t capable of loving anyone but himself. He thrived on attention, he didn’t care who it was from. 

Carla Kettinger. Ever since your visit, I am crazed with thoughts of you… Already you have entered my dreams. Each time you appear to me…I am embraced by a feeling of trust and belief as if I’ve known you all my life.

Susan Carmichael. It’s clear to me now that you are my fate. We are destined to be together. And when I am gone, that will not change. I will live on in you. In death, our union will be eternal. 

Doesn’t that sound familiar to you? Doesn’t that anger you, Chloe? Doesn’t it make you question? Why are you so loyal to a man that simply doesn’t care?” Piper emphasised each syllable, trying to cast doubt on her emotions. She breathed in relief as Derek returned with Faye. “I’m begging you, Chloe. Don’t ruin the life you could still have for the life you’ll never have.” Piper’s hand slipped into Spencer’s. “Aren’t you tired of fighting, Chloe? We can turn this around.” She pleaded through the megaphone. “Let us help you, Chloe. Let me help you.” They waited and Piper held her breath as the front door creaked open. Spencer stood in front of Piper instantly as she kept pleading with the woman. “Don’t do this, Chloe. There’s so much left for you.” But it was too late. Chloe raised her gun and they fired. The sounds of gunshots made both Piper and Hotch step back. Hotch clutched his eardrums and Piper froze, trembling. 

She couldn’t breathe. Panic filled her bloodstream as she staggered away from the shootings, collapsing at the end of the barricade, her chest constricting on itself. Her heart was pounding, wanting to run away, but her legs wouldn’t work. Wanting to cry out but barely making a whisper. The guns had stopped firing a long while ago but the sound of gunshots ricocheted in her ears. Her shoulder was throbbing and she collapsed onto the ground, staring at the sky above. _breathe…1…2…3…hold…2…3…4…exhale…1…2…3…_ She got up on her bad elbow, crying out until she felt his arms lifting her up. He wrapped her in a hug and her chest was relieved of a large boulder. “I tried,” she whispered.

“I know.” They stood there for a few minutes as the rest of the team sidestepped them. “I know.”

“I don’t wan… leave. I can’t…need…escape..” she murmured. Finally, her breathing was deeper, less shallow and she exhaled into his chest, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She pushed herself off. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry. I…I…I’m gonna um… gonna go…” Piper backtracked away from him, confused and embarrassed. She waved awkwardly and got onto her bike. 

At the precinct, she pulled off her helmet and walked into the precinct, feeling weariness in her feet. She found Rossi cleaning up in the conference room. She approached him, heart in hand. “Rossi–”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve gone through my share of sleepless nights.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Hey, you need a ride to the hotel?” Piper tried to give him her best smile, which wasn’t much and nodded gratefully.

The next morning, they started packing up. Spencer shot glances at Piper, pretending to have caught his gaze outside when she looked back. They loaded the SUVs and Emily asked if they had any directions to the airstrip.

“Town’s only got one road, we’ll find it,” Derek said, juggling the keys.

“Didn’t you know, Emily, Derek doesn’t like directions? He likes to _vibe_ it.” Piper chuckled quietly at Spencer.

“Okay, smartass, why don’t you drive?”

“Jesus, JJ, you wanna swap cars?” Piper yelled.

“With Spencer at the wheel? No way. Pregnant remember?” 

“Oh, you suck,” Piper laughed as she got in the car, smiling at Spencer from her seat next to him.


End file.
